There is No Beginning
by CameoAmalthea
Summary: Written for a contest with the theme "The Beginning of the Planet". I was the only one who entered so this was never published anywhere. I figured I'd share it.


"There is no beginning. There is no end. There is only change.

The Planet itself was a change. In the cosmos a planet began to form like so many others, but on this Planet something new happened. Life appeared where it hadn't been before and the Planet became one of the rare exceptions where Life could not only exist, but thrive.

Everything was right.

When life emerged, so did the Goddess. It cannot be said whether Life or the Goddess came first, but one thing was certain. Wherever She was, Life was, and She was a part of everything. The Goddess was the life of the Planet, and She was called the Life Stream, a river of energy that flowed through the planet and was reflected in all its creatures.

Time passed, and change continued. The Planet gave rise to new life, new children of the Goddess. Everything that lived died, but nothing ended; it only changed. Life returned to the Lifestream, full of memory, and so all that had ever been existed as part of the Goddess. Balance was maintained in life and death and life again, and so the circle turned, forming the Goddess's everlasting, ever-changing dance.

But the Goddess was alone. She danced to the music of creation, and sang in every spark of life. Everything was part of Her, yet separate, and none of these things could speak to Her.

The Goddess was lonely. She wished for others like herself. She wished to create, rather than to simply Be.

So as if from the Goddess's wish, there came other powerful beings within the Life Stream. For in Her was the memory of all songs, every story ever told on any Planet anywhere, songs echoing throughout all realities that ever existed separate but the same. From these images she brought fourth gods and monsters, and her creations were mighty, but still little more than dreams.

They existed within the Lifestream, as a part of Her, but they could not exist on the planet itself. She could not make Life spring forth just by wishing for it. Yet She could give Her energy to them; and She gave so much energy that the Life Stream spilled out into pools, and from the Goddess's blood, the Mako, came Materia, which held the spirits of the Life She dreamed. She poured Her most powerful memories, the power of the elements, and the wishes of all the creatures that had lived and died on the Planet into the Materia. Even a spark of Herself, Her own heart and desire to give Life, was poured into a Materia, and this was Holy, the most powerful magic.

The Goddess had created something separate from herself, but she was still alone. The Goddess, the Planet, was filled with longing.

Then the Cetra came to be, as if to grant her wish, and they were the children of the Goddess that bore Her own image. She did not create them, but they came to be. They were Her favorite children, for they were the first who could hear Her song, and raised their voices in response.

The Cetra were a part of Her, as all things on Planet were, but they did not sing along with the Chorus of Creation, but countered the Goddess's melody. So the symphony of Life swelled with the voice and spirit of the Cetra, the Children of the Planet, the Goddess's form incarnate.

Everything was right.

Then the Calamity, Jenova, came from the skies.

Jenova was not of the Planet: not a part of the Goddess. Jenova was a monster who sought to devour the Goddess and all Life on the Planet. Like a destructive fungus that consumed each tree it happened across, Jenova consumed all life, and all life became part of her.

Jenova spread from planet to planet. She devoured her own world, and when that Planet crumbled, her consciousness clung to the shards as they hurtled through space, propelled by her hunger. Where the shards fell, so did Jenova, and planet after planet was devoured and Jenova spread, becoming a virus of the cosmos.

Then Jenova came to this Planet and began to consume the Goddess. The Cetra heard Her cries, and harnessed the power of the most powerful Materia, Holy. They fought alongside the Planet itself, and defeated Jenova. They beat her back, until all that was left was her shell. They buried this in the farthest corner of the world, within the crater where she'd first arrived at the Planet. Jenova could not be destroyed entirely, but she was locked away beneath the dirt and ground, never to rise again, or so they thought.

The Planet was safe.

Everything was right.

Then something new came from the skies.

They were not from the Planet, but they did not pose a threat. They were Life, Children of another Goddess somewhere far away across the cosmos. They came in ships where they had slept for a long time and when they emerged, and came as settlers to undiscovered land. The Cetra watched them. These new People could not hear the Planet; they were not a part of Her. They were different, but somehow they were the same. They looked just like the Cetra, and soon the Cetra and the People met.

Some among the Cetra feared them. They saw that the new People did not know the Planet. They could not hear the song, and did not respect the Life that the Planet shared. They did not live in balance, but took more than their fair share of what the Goddess had to give, and made weapons to take more by force. Some feared that they might find a way to take the very Planet's Life if they could, as Jenova had attempted long ago.

Some of the Cetra fled and hid themselves in the distant corners of the world.

But others stayed and mingled with the People. Sometimes the Cetra and the People knew war. Cetra blood was spilled and mingled with the dust.

Death.

Sometimes the Cetra and the People knew peace, and came to understand each other. Cetra blood was passed on and mingled with the blood of the strangers.

Life.

But whether by Death or by Life, the blood of the Cetra soon faded from the world, either smeared on the points of swords or spread too thin among the blood of the People—until all that were left were the People. The Cetra had become a part of their ancestry. No one remained who could hear the Planet, or the song of Goddess…

…Except for those who had left; the Cetra that had kept the company of their own kind. But they were scarce, and as years passed, their numbers dwindled, and they too were forced to spread themselves among the People…

Until, at last, there was only one Cetra left in the world. She took a descendant of the People as her husband and had a daughter."

"Me?" asked Aerith. The child interrupted her mother for the first time during the familiar bedtime story.

"Yes," said Ifalna, "you. The story continues in you, but also in everyone else. In the People, in the Planet, it's all part of the same story. You'll hear it if you listen. Now, darling, try to get some sleep."

"But momma," asked Aerith, "the story's not done yet. What will happen to me? Do you know that story?"

"It's yours to make, and you will choose how it goes on, until it ends just as it began," said Ifalna. Together, she and her young daughter recited the final line. "There is no beginning. There is no end. There is only change."


End file.
